THOMAS   CRAWFORD 


ART   IN   AMERICA 


Addm^ss  bicfoue  the  Nhvv  VoiiK.  Historical  Soctkty,  uton  the  Ruciir'TioN  of 

Ckawkokds  St-aii;}':  of  thk  Indian,  pkesentkd  by  Kki-;di-:kic  uu  Peyster, 

IL.l),    I'KicsiDF.N  r,    Tuesday    Kvening,    Afk'H.    6,    1875. 


By    SAMUEL    OSGOOD,    D.D.,    LL.D. 


I'UBLISHED    BY    ORDliK     OF     TH  K    SOCll-.TV. 


NEW     YORK: 
JOHN    F.    TROVV   &   SON,    PRINTEf 
1875. 


THOMAS   CRAWFORD 


ART    IN    AMERICA. 


Address    rsKFOHp:   the   New   York    Historical    Society,    upon    the    Recei'tion    of 

Ckaweoku's  Statue  of  the  Indian,  I'kesented  hv  Frederic  de  Pevster, 

LL.D.,    President,    Tuesday    Evening,    Ai'kil    6,    1S75. 


By   SAMUEL    OSGOOD,    D.D.,    LL.D. 


PUBLISHED    BY    ORDER     OF     THE    SOCIETY. 


NEW     YORK : 

JOHN    F.  TROW    &    SOX,    PRINTERS. 

1875. 


Art 
Lihrarj 

THOMAS  CRAWFORD 

AND 

ART    IX    AMERICA 


AY^:  receive  to-night  tlie  gift  of  a  niasterpiec'e 
from  tlie  cliisel  of  tlie  nuister  sculjjtor  of  our  Amer- 
ica; and  this  fact,  with  its  date,  so  full  of  interesting 
associations,  tells  us,  that  Ave  Americans,  as  such,  have 
somethino'  to  do  with  the  world  of  art.  This  month 
begins  our  round  of  Centennial  juljilees;  and  whilst 
our  Massachusetts  neighl)ors  are  bent  upon  cele- 
brating the  battles  of  Lexington,  Concord,  and  Bun- 
ker Hill,  we  may  try  our  lungs  a  little  at  bragging  in 
a  different  way,  as  Ave  think  not  of  smashing  human 
profiles  Avith  muskets  and  cannon,  bayonets  and 
s\\or(ls,  l)ut  of  modelling  the  human  face  as  well  as 
we  can,  in  clay  and  marble,  with  hand  and  stick 
and  chisel.  Four  hundred  years  ago,  a  month  since, 
March  (>,  1475,  the  prince  of  modern  sculptors,  ]Mi- 
cliael  Angelo  Buonarotti,  Avas  born,  and  Ave  are  just 
hearing  the  echo  of  the  joy  of  Italy  at  the  four  hun- 
dredth anniversary  of  the  birth  of  her  illustrious  son. 
This  day,  moreover,  is  the  aimiversary  of  tlie  death 
of  Raphael,  who  died  April  G,  15l^0,  three  hundred.. 


10877'?).; 


4  TlIOilAS    CRAWFOUD 

and  fifty-five  years  aijo.  Thus  Italy,  in  tlie  ])ersons 
<)f  lu'i'  Lfivatest  sc'ulj)t()r  and  ])ainter,  meets  with  us 
now;  and  slie  wlio  gave  us  C<>1uim1)Us  and  Aniericus, 
and  wlio  edueated  Crawford  in  his  art,  looks  witli  a 
patronizing  eye  uj)on  the  I'ising  ait  of  our  young 
Anicrica.  It  is  ncai'ly  four  liundred  years  since  her 
C'o!unil)US  o])eiUMl  our  new  Avoi-ld  to  the  old;  and 
tlierc  is  something  at  first  a  litth;  disheartening  in 
the  thouglit,  tliat  in  all  that  time  we  have  done  notli- 
ing  in  ait  to  e(jual  her  doings  in  tlie  first  hundreil  of 
those  years,  and  that  the  first  centuiy  since  we  be- 
came a  nation  has  given  us  no  name  in  scu]|)ture  or 
]Kiinting  like  those  of  ■Michael  .Vugelo  and  Iia])hael. 
But  tljink  a  little  more  sei-iously  uj»on  the  facts  of 
the  case,  and  thei'e  will  be  no  occasion  for  discour- 
agement. AVhen  Columbus,  in  Api-il,  14!'i\  fixed 
his  articles  of  agreement  with  luMNlinand  and  Isa- 
])ella  foi"  his  gi'eat  voyaLT*'  <»f  discov«'r\',  a  Tuscan  boy, 
who  at  f<»urteen  had  been  a])i)rentice(l  in  1  fsi)  for 
thr«'e  vears  in  tin*  \\(>rk>;hoj)  «>f  Doinenlco  (ihirlan- 
dajo  for  about  eight  dollais  a  year,  was  j)iactising 
his  e\e  and  hand  among  the  busts,  statu<'<.  nnd  bas 
i-eliefs  in  the  gardens  <»f  Loicnzo  (h-  Medici.  Then, 
sev<'ntcen  yeai->  <»ld,  he  had  sliown  hi>;  genius,  and 
moi'e  than  a  Ncai"  before,  when  under  sixteen  \cars, 
he  had  given  imm<>itality  t«>  a  j»iece  of"  mai-bic  by 
the  touch  of  \\\<  chisel  the  coji\  oj  the  ina-k  of  the 
old  I'.iun,  which  i>  still  )»re>er\('il  in  the  public  gal- 
lt'I-\  of  l''lorence.  lie  \\\<'*\  to  be  liealK'  ninet\  \fars 
<»f  ;ej-e,  and  died  I-'eb|-nai'\-  17.  1  .")(■>  I.  abont  two 
jnoiithv      before       W  illi;im      SllMki-|)e;ire      W;is     boI'U. 

Tliei-e  is  vom<'thing  in  this  conjunction  of  names  that 


AND    ART   IX    AlMEIilCA.  0 

honors  the  Ttuliaii  sculptoi",  nud  also  comforts  ns,  the 
])1<)0(1  rehitions  of  the  English  jMX't.  Witli  all  his 
marvellous  genius  and  his  manifold  works  as  sculp- 
tor, painter,  and  architect,  ^Michael  Angelo  never  took 
liold  of  the  j)()])ular  life  of  Italy  as  Shakesj)eare  took 
liold  of  Kngland.  lie  was  obliged  to  give  the  gifts 
of  his  ins])iration  and  the  toils  of  his  years  to  a 
power  \vhieh  he  did  not  h)ve,  and  instead  of  1>reath- 
ing  a  new  sj)irit  into  dormant  Italy,  lie  hel})ed  to  turn 
the  influence  of  the  rising  ]-evival  of  letters  towards 
the  restoration  of  mediaeval  des])otism.  Without 
meaning  to  do  it,  he  hel])ed  to  tui'u  the  Home  of 
])ante  into  the  Rome  of  Loyohi,  and  ])efore  he  died 
lie  sa^v  enough  to  tell  him  that  the  St.  Peter's  which 
rose  under  his  master  hand  was  not  lifting;  the  old 
lloman  manhood,  with  the  llonian  Pantheon  before 
the  eyes  of  Italy,  towards  the  mei'cy-seat  of  heaven, 
Paphael,  as  he  lay  in  state,  robed  for  the  grave, 
Avith  his  marvelhms  ])icture  of  the  Transhguration 
behind  his  'head,  this  i\})ril  G,  1520,  in  Rome,  the 
whole  city  doing  him  homage,  was  in  inore  respects 
than  one  to  be  envied  by  his  su])limer  rival;  for  to 
Ilaphael  beauty  was  its  own  ])aradise,  and  he  opened 
its  treasu]*es  to  astonished  Italy  without  any  misgiv- 
ings of  the  time  when  retiu-ning  suj)erstition  would 
])refer  the  gi'otesque  Bambino  to  his  peerless  Ma- 
donnas and  Holy  Child  Christs,  and  the  Bai'occo  ar- 
chitectui'e  of  the  Jesuit  Church  to  the  grandeur  of 
Michael  ^Vngelo.  Successful  they  botli  A\"ere,  an<l 
tlieir  art  Avas  literature  and  el(>(|Uence  to  their  time. 
Their  ])ictures,  statues,  and  Iniiidings  were  poems, 
orations,  romances,  sermons,  and  philosophy,  yet  tliey 


6  T1I03IAS    CRAWFORD 

(lid  not  rise  to  tlie  peculiar  tnnni])]i  wliieli  belongs 
to  the  herot^s  of  the  new  nations  of  Cliristendom, 
and  Thomas  Crawford  was  hapj)ier  tlian  tliey  in 
liaviiiir  a  great  nation  encourage  liis  work  and  take 
his  art  to  fix  its  auijust  memory  and  to  exalt  its  ma- 
jestic  h<)})e. 

Michael  Angelo's  poems  l»i-ing  out  the  sadness  of 
which  his  life  was  full  ;  and  this  generous  Broad 
Chui'chman,  wh(>se  creed  joined  the  thought  of 
Plato  to  the  faith  of  St.  John,  felt  that  in  the  height 
of  his  fame  he  was  grinding,  like  Samson,  in  the  mill 
of  the  Pliilistines,  and  slaving  himself  to  huild  up  a 
power  \\hich  he  little  lovccl.  This  soinict  to  Night 
lirings  out  the  s])ii-it  of  the  man,  and  cheers  our 
America  with  ])i'omise  of  brighter  dav  for  her 
Art:—. 

"()  nij^lit  I   O  sweet  tlioui^li  somln-e  spiin  of  time  I 
All  tliiiij,'s  tiiul  rest  u|n>ii  tlicir  joiii-m-y's  eml  — 
Wliosd  liiitli  praisfd  thee  well  doth  :i))jirfh(ii(l  ; 

And  whoso  honors  thee  hath  wisdom's  prime. 

Our  cares  thou  eaii.st  to  <jui<'tiide  siililimc, 

For  d<'ws  and  daikiu'ss  are  of  |i(acr  the  friend; 
( >ften  hy  thee  in  dreams  u]>liorn<'  I   wiii<l 

From  earth  to  hea\cii,  whcic  yd    1  hope  to  climb. 

Thou  shade  of  I>cath,  tliroUL.'h  whom  the  soul  at  length 
Shuns  |iaiu  and  sadm-ss  hostile  to  the  heart, 
AN'liere  niourneis  find  their  last  and  sure  lelief. 

Thou  ilost   restore  i(Ui-  sullerinLr  tlesh  to  strength, 
I  hiest  <iur  tears,  assuat.'e>|  every  smart, 
I'urL'in;,'  the  spirits  of  tiie  pure  from  L'ri<'f."' 

Ill  llii^  ^<iiiiit't.  ami  ill  hi>  whole  tfiiijiei',  tliei-e  is 
iiiiK'h  <>t  Mifliat'l  Aii'jflo  that  coined  honic  to  u->  all 
i;o\\.      A    irreat    aeliif\ ciiieiit,    his    lil'r    was  a   ureat 


AND    ART   IX    AMERICA.  7 

propliecy,  and  ^vas  always  suggesting  more  tlian  he 
did.  His  paintings  and  frescoes  meant  statues^  and 
]iis  statues  meant  poems,  and  liis  ])oems  ])reatlied  a 
grand  luu-est,  a  per])etual  sigli  for  tlie  Kenaissance, 
the  re-birth,  tliat  no  Ijeautiful  arts  nor  priestly  do- 
minion, hut  the  reign  of  God  with  mankind  can  se- 
cure. Tliomas  Crawford's  life,  too,  was  full  of 
struggle,  and  it  closed  at  forty-three  yeai's  in  sliadows 
dark"  in  })ain  and  disap})ointment  without  his  fault; 
but  he  was  workins;  towards  the  li<i:ht,  and  the  statue 
of  America  on  his  country's  Ca})itol  holds  out  to 
Italy  a  fairer  promise  than  Michael  Angelo  ever 
saw  in  the  Basilica  that  sacriii(;ed  his  country  to  a 
caste.  In  the  acre  of  Leo  X.  the  arts  flourished  at 
the  expense  of  lil)erty,  humanity,  and  tlie  highest 
intellectual  culture.  There  was  too  much  and  too 
precocious  blossoming  for  the  best  fruit.  Literature 
lanixuished,  that  the  arts  of  desio:n  mio-ht  thrive. 
Why  lament,  then,  that  our  America  lias  not  suffered 
thus,  })oor  as  she  has  been  in  the  treasures  of  art ! 
Bather  see  the  order  of  Providence  in  the  destiny 
that  has  allo^ved  the  sturdy  trunk  of  our  civilization 
to  grow  for  centuries  here,  and  now  at  last  the 
promised  l)loom  of  beauty  is  to  come  without  sacii- 
flce  of  wisdom  and  strength.  The  hand  that  Avas 
raised  up  to  set  the  flgure  of  AVashington  upon  the 
stately  monument  at  I\ichmond  cannot  envy  Michael 
Angelo  the  tomb  of  the  Medici  and  the  mythical 
sliaj)es  thereon.  Washington  and  Cavour,  ])ractical 
and  prosaic  as  they  were,  mean  more  good  to  man- 
kind, and  in  the  end  deeper  inspiration  to  high  art, 
than  all  the  Medici  combined.     In  Italy  superstition 


8  THOMAS    CRAWFOKD 

nst'd  art  to  koej)  down  tlie  linniau  iiiind,  and  made 
Ka])liael  |)nt  it  to  slcej)  l>y  tlie  cliann  of  his  l)eauty, 
and  Mic-luu'l  Aiigtdo,  in  s])ito  of  liiinsclf,  to  frown 
down  its  lilxMty  ))y  tlie  grandrnr  of  his  genius.  It 
was  worse  in  France,  wliere  the  modern  sj)irit  was 
langhed  «h)wn  hy  tlie  fun  of  Kal)elais  and  seared 
away  l>y  tlie  gloom  of  Calvin, 

Times  have  changed  now,  and  art,  especially  scnlp- 
tnre,  lia<  lieeonie  the  ally  of  lilxTty,  the  chamj)ion 
of  all  genei'ous  cnlture.  The  spirit  of  ]\[ichael  An- 
gelo  has  gone,  where  it  always  Uehniged,  to  the  fi'ee 
mind  of  the  northei-n  nations,  and  Thomas  Ciawford 
was  oneof  his  diMM])les:  loyal  memlx'i'of  that  iioMe 
Itrotherhood  of  senlj)toi"s,  am<»ng  whom  'Diorwald- 
sen  was  father,  and  IJaneh  and  Drake  and  Sehwan- 
thaler  and  Dannecker  w<'re  1»rother-.  It  devolves 
uj»on  nic  to  sjieakof  him  to-night  in  connection  with 
art  in  Americn,  ami  I  mu-'t  lie  alIo\\<il  to  say  that 
thi>  ojlice  is  not  of  my  siM-king,  and  did  not  seem  to 
lie1(»nLf  ti>  me;  for  I  am  n<»t  an  .-irtist.  iioi- a  ci-itic.  nor 
a  e<ni!i"i--«<'nr,  \\<>v  in  an\'  \\;iv  tjUaliiicd  t<»  teach  the 
j)iiiic;plc<  <•!•  interpret  the  cxniiijilcs  (»f  art.  I  have  a 
certain  lnveforthe  Ite.-uitiful  ;irt^.  aii<l  ni'Tc  lovcfoi- 
the  idf.-il  and  li;irm'>!ii/.ing  cultuiT  \i>  wliicli  thev  1>e- 
loiiLT ;   .-iiid  pci'hajK  it  i<  not  nnl'cci>miii'_;- in  me.  under 

the    circUm-tance-,    to    ;ippe;il'     llel'e     <>n     tlli^    'jTiMind, 

and.  .'i-  .-I  fi'ieiid  and  help,  r  of  t  iie  hiLj'liei- eilucat  ion 
of  oiir  people  and  their  cjiildi-eii.  to  ^.pcak  of  ilii< 
Anieiican  -eiilptor  ;tnd  lii<  beautiful  ail.  A  few 
wonUof   liim.  and  then  let  u-   ]»re-ent  the  le-«-on   of 

hi^    lite. 

1.   Tlie  anni\er-ar\    di«'our-e  liefoj-c   the    societ\-. 


AND    AIIT    IX    AMEIIICA.  9 

Decem])er  14,  1S57,  l)y  Profpsi^or  George  AV.  Greene, 
was  an  elocjiieiit  tril)iite  to  tlie  genius  and  character 
of  Crawford.  I  liad  tlie  lioiior  of  offering  tlie  res- 
olution of  tlianks  to  the  oratoi*  Avitli  some  rcmai'ks.  It 
is  not  forme,  tlien,  to  undertake  to  <lo  now  Avliat  lias 
ali'eady  l)een  dojie;  yet  lean  ])ro])(^rly  I'ecall  enough 
of  Crawfoi-d's  career  to  place  him  distinctly  hefoi'e 
the  minds  of  the  young  who  did  not  hear  that  address, 
to  s;iy  nothing  of  the  elders,  whose  im])ressi()n  of  it 
may  hav<;'  been  o1)SL'ured  ])y  the  flight  of  years  and 
the  burdens  of  care.  He  was  born  in  Xew  York 
Citv,  ^rarcli  '22,  181-'),  where  he  had  a  goo;!  common 
school  education,  and  at  the  age  of  fourteen,  after 
much  study  <^f  draAving.  with  great  attention  to  en- 
gj'avings  and  all  works  of  art  Avithin  his  I'each,  he 
engaged  hims(df  to  a  wood-carver,  "with  whom  he 
remained  till  he  was  nineteen  years  of  age,  diversi- 
fyinif  the  Arork  of  carving  wood  Avith  the  study  of 
architecture.  jVt  nineteen  he  entered  the  studio  of 
Frnzee  ik  Launitz,  monumental  scul])tors  in  this  city, 
where  he  learned  the  mechanical  pai't  of  sculpture 
and  shoAved  decided  ability  in  modelling  leaves, 
flowers,  and  other  natural  objects,  and  l)egan  to  work 
upon  portrait  l)usts  with  succC'^s.  In  1 8')5  he  stai'ted 
for  Ivome,  and  there,  in  Tliorwaldscn,  he  met  the 
pi'esence  and  lieard  the^vordsof  encouragement  that 
opened  to  him  his  destiny.  Xow  t^ventv-t^vo  years 
of  age,  he  had  gone  through  his  ])re})ara,tion,  and  his 
strugii'le  began,  which  may  l)e  said  to  have  ended 
Avith  the  rece])tion  of  his  statue  of  Orjdieus  in  Bos- 
ton, in  1841,  and  the  ha])p3' man-iage  in  1844,  \vhich 
irave  him,  in  a  favored  Xew  York  ladv,  the  I']ui'\"(lice 


10  THOMAS    CRAWFORD 

that  lie  sought,  witlioiit  seeking  lier  in  any  subterra- 
nean sliades.  From  tliat  (hite  to  liis  early  death, 
thirteen  years  afterwards,  his  years  of  triuni]»li  were 
counted.  Great  indeed  were  his  labors  for  a  young 
man  of  forty-three  years,  the  age  at  which  he  died, 
and  during  his  twenty  years  of  jtrofessional  life,  with 
only  three  visits  home,  in  1844, 1<S41>,  185(3,  he  linislied 
upwards  of  sixty  works,  many  of  them  C( dossal,  and 
left  about  fifty  sketches  in  jdastei-  and  designs  of 
various  kinds.  I  low  impressive  is  the  record  of  his 
bui'ial  at  St.  John's  Churcli  in  this  city,  where  he  had 
always  attended  from  his  l)oyhood  until  he  went  to 
Konie,  and  what  changes  have  come  since  that  day  in 
1857  when  good  Dr.  Bcrrian  read  tlie  burial  scivice, 
assisted  by  Kev.  ^Icssrs.  Dix,  AVcston,  and  Young; 
and  Chai'lesSumnt'i',  Henry  T.Tuckerman,  (ieoige  W. 
Curtis,  Geoi'ge  W.  (ireein',  Francis  Liebei',  and  his 
brother  artists,  liossiter,  Kensett  and  llicxs,  were 
])a]l-)(earers.  As  we  think  of  liis  death,  at  forty-tliree, 
Octolter  lO,  1S57,  we  may  justly  compare  liim  w  itli  liis 
])eers  in  art,  and  I'emembei'  that 'i'horwaldsen  died  at 
seventy-three,  C'aiiova  at  sixty-live,  I^-irtoliiii  at  sev- 
<*ntv-two,  lianeh  at  eighty,  DaiiiH.'cker  at  eighty-three, 
Flaxman  at  seventy-* tiie,  Teneiani  at  (»ver  seventv. 
Srliwantlialer,  who  die<j  at  forty-six,  after  adorning 
Avitli  colossal  statues  the  tlirone-i'«»oiii  of  Muiiicli  and 
the  W'alhallaof  Uatisbon,  and  modelling  the  gigantic 
statue  of  Bavaria,  comes  iieai'  to  our  American 
sculptoj- in  the  originalit\  and  force  ol  his  genius,  the 
iiuinl»cr  of  his  juvxluction-,  and  in  his  early  death. 
l)Ut  the  Munich  ^culptoi-  had  a  io\;il  family  to  cheer 
him.  and  the  gold  ot  a  kingdom  to  >ujtpoit  him  and  to 


AND    AKT    IN    A^IERICA.  11 

carry  out  lils  plans,  whilst  tlie  American  struggled 
foi-  bread. 

].  I  will  not  undertake  to  describe  or  specify  liis 
works,  but  nuist  be  content  with  presenting  the  char- 
acter of  his  genius  and  influence.  And  tirst  of  all  he 
inn)ersonate<l  in  himself  the  two  essential  (|ualitiesof 
the  artist  mind,  the  union  of  intense  ])ersonality  with 
the  most  generous  and  com])reliensive  universality. 
lie  was,  from  first  to  last,  Thomas  Cra'wford  and 
nobody  else,  a  marked  and  persistent  individual,  yet 
he  grew  out  in  all  directions  towards  nature,  human- 
ity and  God's  providence.  Although  not  a  great 
scholar,  familiar  indeed  with  the  French  and  Italian, 
and  knowing  the  Greek  and  Latin  classics  only  in 
translations,  and  never  making  any  attempts  at 
authorship,  content  with  studying  as  well  as  he  could 
the  thoughts  and  style  of  the  mastei's  of  literature, 
he  was  in  his  way  a  remai'kable  interpreter  of  the 
ages  of  history  and  the  phases  of  human  culture  and 
genius  from  the  days  of  Homer  to  those  of  Beethoven. 
As  generall}^  studied  and  written,  history  in  its 
universal  relations  is  dry  and  al)stract,  pedantic  and 
unideal,  l)ut  our  sculj)tor  made  it  live  and  speak  in 
his  creations.  Its  soul  was  embodied  and  its  body 
was  inspirited  in  every  character  that  he  studied  and 
modelled.  He  could  not  of  course  do  all  that  he 
asi)ired  to  do,  and  there  are  great  gaps  in  his  plas- 
tic I'endering  of  the  ages,  but  he  evidently  took  them 
all  Avithin  the  s^veep  of  his  high  and  strong  imagina- 
tion and  his  tender  and  comprehensive  humanity, 
and  this  New  York  wood-carver  learned  to  accept 
and  interpret  the  place  of  the  nations  in  the  order  of 


12  THOMAS    CU AWFOUD 

civilization ;  aiul  broader  and  wiser  than  many  a 
learned  eoninientator,  lie  eallecl  up  the  eliai'aetei's  of 
Judea,  (ireece,  Koine,  (lei'niany,  Aintriea,  to  unfold 
the  aj)ocalyj).se  of  time,  to  show  the  larL.'^eness  of 
Lumanity,  and  vindieat<'  the  j)rovidene('  oi  (iod. 
AVhat  a  icnderini^  he  has  iriven  of  the  American 
Indian  in  the  statue  presented  to  us  to-niijht.  Tile 
sculptor  (lil)son  called  it  his  liucst  work.  Wliat 
streni^th  and  flexibility  in  the  form  :  what  majesty 
and  jKithos  in  the  e.\])ressi(>n  ;  what  I'eltuke  in  this 
marble  to  us  I 

Intensely  individual  in  his  jx-rsonality,  and  br(»ad 
and  univer«>al  in  his  symj)athy,  he  was  able  to 
unite  the  two  element^  lu  his  art  and  to  present 
the  s])ii-it  of  the  aijes  in  the  sjieakinu"  vitality  <»t"  his 
creations.  This  is  j»erlai>s  the  tir>t  essential  <d'  the 
artist,  that  whatever  he  touches  mu>-r  haxc  the  breath 
of  per>(»iial  life  and  tiie  breadth  of  mii\ci>al  fell.»w- 
shijt.  The  lonely  little  llowcr  that  blooins  uj)  from 
umler  the  shelter  (>1  an  .MjMiie  |ie:ik  and  cat<-hes  tlie 
i:-leam  (»f  sun>liine  amoni;-  iho^c  icy  baidx-,  has  its 
own  pertinacious  <»riiaiii>iii,  true  in  e\crv  tint  and 
iibi'c  t<»  the  record  and  lln-  baiiiiei-  of  its  dan:  \  et  it 
is  one  with  uni\fr^al  naluie,  aiil  wlicii  llie  j>ainter 
]»uts  it  upon  caii\  IS  he  briii^'^  out  t  in- cat  holicii  \(if 
its  s<»litai\  coiile--itin  aiul  niaki'>  it  t<-||  it^  wlii"<prr> 
with  llic  w  ind--.  its  bam | net-  w  :t  li  t  lie  dew  -  and  rains, 
and  it--  nie->-a'_:<-s  ot  h.xc  tiom  the  rock--  ol  tjir  earth 
to  the  ^tar^  o|'  lira\en.  (fawiojil  hail  tlii-  power 
in  an  ari  le--  ti(e  than  iiie  painlei-^,  and  under  the 
l.iiicli  of  111-  elii-e|  the  >heal  of  Caliloriiia  wln^at 
bee.mn-    p(  r-onak  and    il--  lull    blades    were  ^\^eHin^• 


AND    AllT    IX    AMKIIICA.  13 

with  the  iiiai>;nificenf'o  of  the  Pacific  doinain  and  even 
|L!;h)wini^  witli  the;  ij^ohl  of  tiie  lainci-i  tliat  seemed  to  ask 
tlie  irrain  to  siiiiial  tlieii-liichh'ii  si)leiidoi'  to  tlie  worhl. 
2.  Ill  one  re.s])(H-t  Crawford  (h^serves  lionoi'alde  and 
conspicuous  name  ainoni^  tlie  leach'i's  of  our  modern 
culture,  and  its  master-spirit  Goetlie,  woidd  not  liave 
l)eeii  asliamed  t(»call  liim  l)r()t]ier  for  what  T  call  his 
next  marked  characteristic,  lie  is  one  of  the  s])irits 
of  peace  who  are  hriiiLi'inu"  the  two  o'reat  schools  of 
civilization  together —  the  classic  school  that  insists 
most  u])on  the  ])ody  and  form  of  things,  and  the 
]'omaiitic  school,  that  insists  most  upon  the  soul  and 
s})irit  of  things — or  the  Greek  and  the  Gothic.  A\'heii 
Cra\\ford  hegun  his  career  these  two  poAvers  were  at 
war,  as  in  fact  they  have  generally  heen,  but  their 
antagonism  was  coming  to  a  head.  The  Greek  spirit 
was  trying  to  set  Uj)  again  the  rule  of  the  l)ody,  and 
the  age  of  industry  coni1)ined  with  the  restless  muscle 
of  the  young  nations  to  restore  the  dynasty  of  the 
legs  and  arms,  and  to  set  the  gymnast  above  the  ])hi- 
los()])her  and  the  devotee.  This  muscular  creed  Avas 
met  by  its  ascetic  antagonist,  the  Medi;eval  devotee; 
andPugiirs  churches  and  Pusey's  tracts  made  a  dead 
set  against  the  Turner's  leg  and  club  law  and  the  secu- 
larists' Avhole  code  of  culture.  Thus  it  ^vas  (rreek 
against  Goth — 1  xxly  against  soul.  AVe  saw  the  antag- 
onism sometimes  in  buildings  on  opposite  sides  of  the 
same  street.  Here  a  bank  in  not  ahvays  cheap  imita- 
tion of  the  Parthenon,  and  there  a  lath  and  plaster 
Gothic  church  in  very  cheap  imitation  of  York  ]\li li- 
ster or  Cologne  CatluMlral.  These  extreme  contrasts 
marked    schools    of  culture,  not  always  extreme  or 


14  THOMAS    CRAWFOKD 

extravagant  in  their  tliouglit  and  enterprise,  the 
chissic  and  tlie  romantic.  Goethe  in  liis  F'aust  called 
for  the  end  of  this  (juarrel,  and  in  Euj)hori<>n,  the  child 
of  the  marriage  of  Faust  with  Helena,  he  predicted 
the  union  of  the  classic  and  romantic  schools  in  our 
rising  literature. 

K«)\v  I  do  not  say  that  Cra\vf()rd  cared  much  about 
this  literary  quarrel,  or  meant  to  have  his  hand  in  the 
fray,  hut  I  am  sure  that  he  felt  tlie  })ainful  differ- 
ence and  was  moved  to  do  his  part  towards  the  true 
reconciliation.  He  certainly  did  nuich  towards  the 
result.  His  chief  itroductions  unite  classic  strenirth 
with  romantic  s])irituality.  He  isCJreek  and  Gothic 
or  German  too.  He  gives  us  the  l)ody  and  the  soul 
of  man  and  nature.  His  fiist  great  work,  his  Orpheus, 
is  exam])le  of  this  union,  and  when  I  saw  the  noble 
figure  thirty-four  yeais  ago  in  Boston,  it  seemed  to 
me  to  settle  the  (piestion  tiiat  sculpture  is  a  modern 
art  and  allows  the  modern  inward  life  to  show  itself 
Avith  the  antiijue  strength  of  form.  Orpheus  is  a 
Greek  and  a  Cliristian  too,  and  he  faces  toward  the 
tlie  Sliadesor  lOrebus  with  limits  trained  in  the  j)ala'- 
stra  and  with  a  soul  illuminattMJ  by  the  light  tliat 
is  not  of  this  woi'hl.  'J'his  woi'k  is  a  proj>hecy  of 
our  coming  litei-atuie  as  well  as  art  It  is  (»neof  the 
siL'^ns  (»f  the  new  age  <»f  (ici-nianic  inwardness  and 
(iroek  nutwardncvs,  Wr  are  not  t<»  hav*-  nuisele  and 
materialism  <>n  one  hand  and  spindling  pietism  on  tin.' 
other,  but  IkhIv  and  soul  a*;«'  to  go  together.  Arehi- 
teetuie  and  .-euljttuic  are  not  t(»  be  l>ehind  in  the 
leconciiiatioii.  Sculptni-<-  esj»eeially  is  to  rebuke 
alike  the  Lrho>tl\   shadow  and  thi' lleshv  materialism 


AND    AKT    IN    AMKIIICA.  15 

tliat  confront  eacli  otlier,  and  to  sliow  that  ])erson- 
ality  re([uh'es  soul  and  body;  tliat  witliin  nature 
there  is  a  mysterious  life,  and  all  in  art  should  inter- 
pret the  indwelling  spirit  and  l)ring  it  out  in  fitting 
form.  This  tliouglit  is  tlie  key-note  to  our  most 
characteristic  and  h()])eful  culture,  and  it  throws 
bright  light  upon  the  new  age  now  opening  upon  us. 
Crawford  threw  its  radiance  on  every  sphere  of  nature 
and  life,  and  under  his  hand  the  wheat  and  the  wild- 
flowers,  playful  children  and  merry  youth,  as  well 
as  heroic  men,  were  transfigured  by  his  touch. 

3.  AVe  see  its  application  to  the  institutions  and 
life  of  our  own  nation  to  ^vhich  Cra\\'ford  has  been  a 
teaclier  and  a  prophet.  The  years  of  his  artist  work 
were  critical  years  for  our  America,  and  he  went  to 
Rome  after  the  first  struggle  ^vith  nullification  had 
come  to  a  head  in  its  defeat,  and  the  phans  were  in  ])ro- 
gress  for  the  second  struggle  and  final  defeat.  In  1835 
our  people  were  feeling,  as  never  before,  their  place 
among  the  nations,  and  when  he  returned  home  to 
America  in  1849,  and  I'eceived  the  orders  for  the  Vir- 
ginia monument  of  AVashington,  and  for  the  colossal 
scul_[)tures  for  the  national  Capitol,  we  had  entered 
upon  our  cosmopolitan  period  and  our  imperial  great- 
ness, with  tlie  gold  of  California,  the  conquest  of  Mex- 
ico, the  accession  of  new  States  at  home  and  swarming 
fleets  of  ocean  steamers  abroad  to  make  us  proud  of 
our  position  and  to  call  for  some  conspicuous  ]ielp 
from  the  hand  of  art  to  give  America  her  true  beauty 
before  the  world,  and  to  lift  her  above  the  materialism 
that  threatened  her  life.  Crawfcu'd  did  tlie  Avork 
nobly,  and  at  Richmond  and  in  AVashington  he  set  up 


10  THOMAS    CliAWFORD 

the  nation  in  niarl>le  and  bronze  as  elo(|uently  and 
bravely  and  j)ersistently  its  Webster  and  Clay  set  it  up 
in  s|)eeeli,  or  Meade  or  Ilancoek  or  Thonuis  or  (Jrant 
ever  set  it  u])  or  kept  it  up  by  the  swoid.  And  he  did 
^vhat  they  j)erhaps  negleeted ;  for  he  not  only  sti'uck 
liis  ehist'l  ai^ainst  the  eonspirators  who  soui^dit  jK>wer, 
but  airainst  the  Manuiion  \v<>rshipj)(*rs  who  were  ready 
to  sell  their  eountry  for  money  to  the  slave  lords  or 
any  other  buyer.  The  sc-ul])tor  was  an  insj)ired  j)a- 
triot,  and  his  chisel  was  jien  and  sword  at  once.  He 
modelled  and  carved  the  tht)U<rht  that  was  to  rule  the 
land,  and  he  jnit  it  uj>on  the  dome  of  the  Caj)itol  in 
jeadiness  for  the  ^^reat  struLj<i"le  that  was  to  come. 
The  modern  a<j:(^  is  the  aire  of  the  nations,  and  the 
modern  lanirua<j:-'>  are  their  voice,  the  declaration  of 
their  liberty  and  law,  the  pletli^c  of  their  birthrli^ht 
and  their  perpetuity.  These  lani^iinir*'^^  speak  not  in 
words  alone  but  in  dee(ls  ab<».  and  sculpture  puts 
theirirreat  utteraiiceintobrassautl  marble.  'J'hoUL^ht- 
ful,  earnest  luen  are  (h»ini:  this  Avoik  now  in  every  free 
nation,  and  Crawford  a--  no  (tthcr  man  has  done  this 
for  u>i.  I'pou  th«'  l>ronze  dooi's.  ujion  the  piMlinieiit 
aFid  the  <h»m(' of  the  Caj)itoI,  he  ha^-  embodied  the 
cliaraclt-ri-tic  l<h'as  aii<l  insiit  utions  ol  our  counti-y, 
and  hi>  record  has  liecii  read  b\  ihe  nation  and  tohl 
its    ]io\\(i-  in  the  liomes  and  schools,  the  armies  and 

the  Senate   h;ilb  of    the   feplililic.        lie    has    fecoi-(h'(l 

not  a  spiteful  clamii^hness  (.r  pro\ineial  jeah»usy  or 
.•i._.-._.|-,-^l\  e  sectionalism,  but  a  broad  and  Lr«"nei(»us 
natioiialitN,  with  prot'-etion  to  every  citi/.en,  and 
toward-  the  whole  \\«.rhi  the  1»h'»sini;-  tliat  he  read  in 
hi-   j>ra\  er-l><»ok,    '•  unit  \.  peace,  and  concord    to  all 


AND    AKT   m    AMERICA.  17 

nations."  The  body  and  tlie  soul  of  tlie  nation  lie 
I'ecognized,  and  lie  lias  done  liis  part  in  keeping  its 
body  and  its  soul  together,  tlie  land  witli  the  law,  the 
soil  with  the  people.  There  "was  power  in  that  sculp- 
tured record — power  not  wholly  his  o^vn ;  for  as  there 
is  a  mysterious  life  in  nature,  and  wliilst  man  plants 
and  ^\'aters,  but  the  increase  is  from  above  and 
within,  so  it  is  in  history.  A  mighty  spirit  moves  over 
the  ages,  and  all  true  and  high  souls  are  its  oi'acles. 
The  Lord  of  Hosts,  who  i-aised  up  the  Father  of  our 
country,  raised  up  the  hand  that  carved  his  statue 
and  enthroned  that  country  in  majesty.  It  takes 
the  combined  lessons  and  arts  of  all  a^-es  to  make  a 
good  work  of  art ;  and  the  America  that  looks  down 
upon  us  from  the  dome  of  the  Capitol  comes  to  us 
from  a  hand  not  only  trained  in  the  schools  of  art, 
but  guided  by  the  s])irit  that  of  old  called  order 
from  chaos,  and  is  the  Lord  and  Giver  of  life.  Noth- 
ino-  is  done  well  that  is  done  in  self-will  without  the 
mysterious  overruling  will,  and  our  sculptor's  ^vork, 
like  the  workman,  was  proof  that  he  bowed  to  that 
power.  Forces  as  well  as  ideas  go  with  true  art,  and 
the  sculptor's  chisel  cuts  the  channels  in  which  these 
forces  run,  pouring  as  they  do  their  tides  of  moral 
power  in  characters  that  never  fade.  As  beauty  has 
its  point  of  bloom,  and  art  pats  it  upon  canvas  to 
bloom  there  always,  so  heroism  has  its  point  of  fruit- 
age, and  the  art  that  seizes  this  point  and  puts  it 
into  stone  or  bronze,  makes  it  tell  the  fact  to  all  time, 
whether  in  David's  dashing  Ijravery  or  Washington's 
calm  endurance.  Thus  interpreted,  the  America  that 
crowns  the  Capitol  seized  the  rising  national  spirit  of 


18  THOMAS    CRAWFORD 

the  country  as  it  moved  tlie  artist  to  tlie  inmost  being, 
and  tliere  it  stood  when  tlie  fearful  trial  came  for 
the  nati<m's  life,  and  there  it  stands  now,  calling  us  to 
move  on  to  the  century  o])ening  upon  us  now,  strong 
in  the  God  of  our  fatheis  and  with  the  transmitted 
life  of  his  peoph^ 

How  mucli  any  one  Avork  or  any  one  man  can  do 
or  has  done  it  is  not  easy  to  calculate,  l)ut  we  must 
i-emember  that  the  measure  of  the  mass  of  weight  or 
force  of  motion  is  not  hy  tlie  sum  total,  hut  l>y  the 
balance  of  conflicting  elements.  lie  staits  the  ava- 
lanche who  ovei'comes  the  weight  that  keej)s  the 
centre  of  gravity  in  poise,  and  he  moves  the  nation 
to  its  daring  who  overcomes  the  inertia  that  keeps 
it  from  moving.  Tlie  few  monuments  of  j)ati'iotic 
art  that  we  had  in  our  struggle  gave  their  silent 
ft)rce  to  the  flag,  and  the  majestic  figures  in  our  l'ni(Hi 
S(piare  and  at  the  Capitol  fought  for  us  fnuii  first 
to  last,  and  brass  and  marble  gave  out  the  latent 
fires  in  which  their  material  was  formed  and  their 
proportions  were  shajx-d. 

II.  The  lesson  of  CrawfoiNTs  life  to  us,  his  coun- 
trymen, caniu)t  be  ea-Ily  misunderstood.  It  tells  us 
to  accept  the  true  idea  of  the  art  which  he  followed, 
to  carry  it  out  in  thi-  education  «>f  our  childi-eii,  and 
to  make  it  tell  upon  the  jtuMic  >pirit  of  the   n,ation. 

1.  The  true  idea  of  art  what  is  that  ^  There 
have  been  definitions  of  art  without  ininiber,  but 
tlu'V  all  amount  to  very  much  the  same  thing.  Art 
i<  the  wav  to  (hi  things,  and  tine  art  is  thewav  toclo 
tliiii'_r^  finely;  the  way  t<t  put  soul  into  body,  to  lift 
the  actual  to  the  ideal,  to  see  and  bring  out  the  >pirit 


AND    AKT   IX    AMERICA.  10 

that  is  in  iiatiii-(^  and  life,  and  to  exalt  tlie  tilings 
that  are  seen  to  the  standard  of  the  heanty  that  is 
unseen.  All  de])ends  n])on  following  the  method  of 
the  Creator,  and  in  accepting  the  two  facts  of  soul 
and  1)()dy  wisely  and  effectively.  Without  soul  we 
liave  clay  and  "Heshand  blood  without  life,  and  M'ith- 
out  l)ody  we  have  only  noticnis,  shado^vs,  di'eanis  so 
far  as  ])i'esent  evidence  cm  go.  Tlie  point  is  to  study 
carefully  the  reality  of  things,  and  to  express  the 
truth  in  the  form  of  beauty,  understanding  by  l)eauty 
not  ])rettiness  or  ])leasantness  merely,  Ijut  whatever 
belongs  to  the  true  harmony  and  unites  the  many 
particulars  with  the  su})reme  ])e]'fection.  In  this 
sense  art  is  not  any  one  craft,  ^vhether  architecture, 
scul])ture,  painting,  that  use  the  hand  and  appeal  to 
the  eye,  nor  ])oetry,  nuisic,  oratoi-y,  that  use  the  voice 
and  appeal  to  the  ear;  but  it  is  all  good  work 
that  beautifies  and  exalts  life,  and  raises  nature  and 
man  up  to  the  ideal  standard.  There  is  fine  ai't  in 
manners,  in  society,  in  influence  over  schools  and 
nations,  in  teachers  and  statesmen,  in  the  pioneers  of 
civilization,  and  in  the  ministers  of  I'eligion.  AVliat- 
ever  sees  the  truth  of  things  and  works  out  their 
possible  l)eauty  is  of  the  essence  of  beautiful  art. 
The  mother,  who  refines  her  home  and  moulds  her 
children  and  elevates  her  family  and  helps  Chi-is- 
tianize  her  neighborhood,  is  sister  of  the  Pluses,  and 
none  of  the  jS^ine  need  be  ashamed  of  her  com])any. 
The  ca])tain  who  subdues  the  reckless  animalism 
of  his  crew  and  wins  them  to  order,  gentleness, 
loyalty,  and  reverence,  is  brother  to  the  sculptor 
who  strikes  intelligence  into  sha])e  from  the  rough 


20  THOMAS    CRAWFORD 

m.iil)le  })}'  liis  toucli,  and  makes  it  tell  to  all  time  its 
lesson. 

We  need  to  acce])t  tills  i^enerous  definition  of  art, 
and  to  broaden  its  fellowsldj)  in  order  to  show  the 
narrowness  of  tlie  mere  craftsmen  who  wrong  ])eauty, 
just  as  j)riestei-aft  wrongs  i-eligion,  by  claiming  tlie 
('xclusive  riglit  to  its  sj)irituality.  The  artist,  like 
tlie  j)rcacher,  needs  to  be  one  among  men,  not  apart 
from  them,  and  the  moi'e  he  is  a  rej)resentative 
brother  and  the  less  an  <»fhciMl  lord,  so  much  the  l)et- 
tcr  for  him  and  them.  There  is  no  danger  that  art, 
any  more  than  religion,  will  decline  nndei-  this  ti'ue 
fellowsliip  of  souls.  Taking  this  view  we  must  be 
willing  to  apjtreciate  all  attenij)ts  to  adorn  life  and 
to  bi'ing  thesu]»renie  beauty  to  bear  ii])on  the  world. 
AVe  must  be  willing  to  see  the  s])irit  of  art  where 
its  imj»lements  are  jiooi-ly  mastei'eil,  and  to  Ix-lieve 
that  <»ur  stout  fathei's  and  frugal  mothers  were  work- 
ing America  into  shape  before  sculpture  and  ])ainting 
apjK'ared  ;  that  many  an  Isaac  caived  the  image  of 
his  IJebecca  out  ot  the  I'ough  fortui:e  with  \vhich  he 
struL-'uled  f<»r  Inr  sake,  and  inan\  a  Jacob  painted 
hi^  Kacliel  upon  streiuns  .'ind  cloutls  dui'ing  his  loni; 
ser\  ice  for  her  hand,  and  nia<h' the  ]ticture  s<)l;i<-e  him 
bv  the  Avav  lii<e  a  ^^•ldonna  face  at  the  stations 
ujion  tli<'  pilgrini">  path.  In  time  the  spirit  (»f  beauty 
took  more  organic  slmpe.  and  \\r  h;ul  j>ainters.  scidp- 
toi-,  aichitects,  as  ^vell  as  oi-ator>>.  jxiets,  and  sin'_rers 
«d  our  own.  I'erhaps  free  sjxech  was  the  first  of 
oui'  .\mericaii  lin«-  art»  in  <tr<ier  of  time,  an<l  the 
c]o(|ii»'nc<'  (.t  ri^in^:  rd>ert  \  broni:ht  t  he  spirit  of  iii'ace 
earlie>t  to  our  hind.      iMtore  j»rinting  had  made  love 


AKD    ART   IN    AM1:HICA.  21 

to  painting  liere,  and  engi'aving  Avas  horn  of  tlieir 
marriage,  a  ])rinter's  boy  began  tlie  arts  of  ])eanty, 
and  Franklin's  prose  style  liad  nothing  to  learn  of 
the  scholars  of  England  or  tlie  wits  of  France. 

When  Cra^vford  apj)eared  ^^'e  had  no  fii-st-(;lass 
scnl])ture,  little  good  architectnre,  little  painting  of 
the  high  historical  school.  lie  made  us  strong  wliere 
we  expected  to  ])e  most  weak,  and  Avon  to  himself 
a  name  in  an  art  tliat  ^vas  sn])posed  to  l)eloiig  to 
antiipiity  and  to  linger  beyond  its  time  npon  the 
modern  staoe.  He  made  us  feel  that  it  belon<>-s  to  us 
and  to  oui'  counti'}^  Why  not,  for  Avliat  does  sculp- 
ture mean  but  man  and  character,  and  Avliere  ought 
these  to  be  more  accepted  than  liere,  where  we  liave 
not  the  rich  costumes  and  brilliant  courts  that  paint- 
ino;  delio'hts  in,  and  if  ^ve  have  not  men  and  charac- 
ters  we  are  poor  indeed.  Think  of  him,  as  he  was 
bent  upon  his  first  attempts  at  sculpture  here,  in  his 
years  of  service  "wdtli  Frazee  cfe  Launitz,  and  let  the 
desci'iption  in  Professor  Greene's  words  bring  him 
and  his  art  near  to  oui"  American  thought :  "  ]\Iost 
of  his  time  the  Avhole  of  his  daylight  l)elonged  to 
his  employers;  1)ut  the  evenings  Avere  his  o^vn,  and 
hoAv  ha])])}'  A\as  he  Avhen  the  evening  sunlight,  sloAvly 
cree])ing  u])  the  Avail,  announced  the  a])]oroach 
of  the  hour  that  Avas  to  set  him  free ;  and  Avhen 
hurrying  home  for  a  hasty  meal,  he  could  take 
his  notes  under  his  arm  and  return  to  his  studio  for 
his  evening  lal)or  of  love.  If,  of  the  hundreds  that 
hourly  ]:)assed  by  that  humldedoor  in  the  ])ursuit  of 
])leasure  or  gain,  some  curious  one  had  sto])])ed  to  look 
in,  he  Avould  have  seen  a  y<-)ung  man  about  live  feet 


22  THOMAS    CKAWFORD 

eleven  inches  liigli,  of  a  sliglit  but  vigorous  frame, 
Avith  j>r<)niinent  eyes  of  clear  blue,  aiHj)le  forehead, 
li]»s  full  ])ut  firm,  cheeks  flushed  with  an  excitement 
that  heii'htened  the  ruthlv  i^low  of  health,  the  mus- 
eles  of  the  face  alread\^  formed  to  the  exj)ressi()n  of 
deep  feeliuir  and  elevated  thought,  the  tliick  chestnut 
hair  sjn-inkled  with  marlde  dust,  a  modelling  tool  in 
his  hand,  an<l  on  the  stand  l>efore  him  a  head  of 
clay  on  wliich  the  light  fell  impei'fectly  from  a  ean- 
dle  strongly  fastened  in  his  hat.  lie  would  have 
seen  that  there  was  no  common  earnestm^s  in  that 
face,  no  connnon  skill  in  that  hand  ;  and  oh  !  why, 
of  the  hundreds  revelling  in  snjteifluous  wealth,  eould 
not  one  have  diseov<'red  in  the  toiling  youth  the 
future  auth(»r  of  the  Orpheus,  and,  devoutly  thank- 
ing (lod  for  the  j»rivilege,  held  out  a  hrother's  hand 
to  hel])  him  in  his  hour  of  need,  over  the  rugued  }){tss 
that  still  divided  him  fi-oni  the  full  ])ossession  of  his 
])o\\  ers  !  " 

•J.  Sueh  \\as  Craw  ford,  a  y<»uth  of  twenty-three; 
and  what  he  Nva-^  in  su<ceptii>ility  thousands  and  tens 
of  thousands  now  in  the  land  are,  and  some  of  the<e 
not  without  s])arksnf  his  genius.  How  great,  then, 
the  need  of  a  Itetter  art  education  here  for  our  chil- 
dre:i  an  education  not  merely  tor  those  who  are 
to  Ite  artists  l»y  profession,  l»ut  for  all  who  have 
any  sense  of  beauty  and  any  aspirati»»n  for  retine- 
meut  in  life,  'i'liis  education  oULi'ht  to  be  thorough- 
goiuir,  to  begin  at  the  Iteginning  «»f  intelliLrence  and 
comprt'lu'n<l  all  faculties  of  dur  natui-e  and  all 
field-  of  art.  It  should  bcL^in  Kefore  Ix'oks  an<l 
>cho(.ls,    and   should    liring   all    the   intellectual    and 


AlsB    AP.T    IX    AMERICA.  23 

active  powers  into  direct  contact  "witli  the  -world  of 
beauty. 

It  is  a  fine  remark  of  Saint  Beuve  that  taste  is  tlie 
first  essential  of  criticnsni,  and  when  we  judge  a  book, 
as  when  we  eat  an  a})ple,  it  is  more  important  to 
taste  its  (piality  well  than  to  anjdyze  its  elements 
scientifically.  According  to  this  idea  it  is  ini])or- 
tant  to  cultivate  a  living  and  just  taste  in  our  chil- 
dren, and  this  is  to  be  done  not  by  treatises  on 
aesthetics,  but  by  accustoming  them  to  observe  and 
to  enjoy  the  best  things  for  themselves.  All  the 
senses  are  to  l)e  properly  trained,  and  instead  of 
making  children  plod  over  books  and  cram  their 
memories  with  Avords,  they  should  l)e  taught  to  touch, 
and  hear  and  see  nature  and  art  for  themselves, 
Obiect  teachiuo;  should  o-o  before  letter  teachino;,  and 
it  is  ])erhaps  best  that  they  should  have  nothing  to 
do  \vith  books  and  verbal  lessons  before  they  are 
seven  years  old.  This  is  evidently  the  method  of 
nature,  and  Froebel  Avith  his  Kindergarten  is  the 
pro])het  of  a  good  time  coming  for  the  emancipation 
of  children  from  the  yoke  of  the  old  pedagogues  and 
of  their  admittance  to  the  new  lil)erty  of  nature  and 
art.  All  the  senses  are  to  ])e  educated  in  connection 
with  their  proper  objects,  and  form,  color,  mass,  per- 
spective are  to  Ije  kno^vn  and  inter])reted  in  them- 
selves, and  not  in  lifeless  print  and  prosy  description. 
By  Avise  selection  and  adaptation,  all  the  seiises  may 
be  developed  into  a  true  sense  of  the  beautiful,  and 
may  o])en  into  a  practical  judgment  that  is  not  only 
the  foundation  of  the  critical  faculty,  but  also  an 
essential  condition  of  all  practical  good  sense. 


24  THOMAS    CRAWFORD 

We  neetl,  not  only  for  ])rofessional  artists,  but  for 
all  well  edueattid  j)eoj)le,  a  certain  judgment  that 
cannot  be  looked  for  too  early,  and  which  in  matters 
of  taste  holds  the  same  jdace  that  conscience  holds 
in  the  sphere  of  morals.  It  is  as  luiwise  to  limit 
this  judgment  to  artists  and  j)rofessional  critics  as 
to  limit  conscience  oi*  the  religious  sentiment  to  the 
clej'ical  class  or  to  ethical  and  theological  wi'iters ; 
for  just  as  all  true  men  are  called  to  have  ethical 
and  religious  convictions,  so  all  cultivated  ])eoj)le 
are  l)ound  to  have  a  due  sense  of  the  Ix'autiful  and 
fair  judgment  upon  the  ])est  examples  of  beautiful 
art.  This  judgment,  like  the  moral  sense,  depends 
more  uj)on  wholesome  associations  than  u])on  theory, 
and  when  children  are  accustomed  to  see  beautiful 
objects,  to  walk  among  flowers  and  birds,  lawns  and 
groves,  l)y  jivers  and  lakes,  to  look  upon  good  pic- 
tures and  statues,  and  to  be  among  ])eo])le  of  gentle 
sjieech  and  graceful  manners,  they  catch  the  s])irit 
of  beauty,  botli  as  a  sentiment  and  a  conviction; 
and  their  ])leasur('  in  the  taste,  like  the  flavor  of  the 
strawlx'rry  and  tlic  jH-acli,  ])ass('s  into  the  very  con- 
stitution, and  the  sweetness  on  the  lij)s  Is  liglit  in  tlu; 
Itrain  and  in  its  cliambers  of  imagery.  A\'e  want  in 
all  of  our  education  moi'e  of  tliat  inw.  element  in 
reason  tliat  feeds  on  tlie  beautiful  and  tiansiigui'es 
its  >weetness  into  light.  Any  one  wlio  lias  gone 
witli  Itriglit  chihh'en  into  tlie  gardens  or  tlie  art  gal- 
leries and  seen  the  (jiiiek  intuitions  that  Hash  U]) 
ii'oin  theii'  ready  peiccjd inns,  will  discern  at  once 
A\  hat  I  mean  bv  this  intellectual  inliuence  of  lieautx', 
and  he  will  not  regard    1-Mniund  Spenser  a  dreamer 


AND    AllT    IN    AMERICA.  2o 

for   calling   tlius   ii2)on    Ilejiveiily    Beautie   in   his 
Ilynnie : 

"  Cease,  then,  my  tongue  !   and  lend  unto  luy  inynd 
Leave  to  bethink  how  great  that  JJeautie  is, 
AVliose  xitniost  })avts  so  Ix^autiful  I  find  ; 

Ifow  nnich  more  tliose  essential  parts  of  His, 
His  truth,  His  love,  His  wisdome,  and  His  hlis, 
His  grace,  His  doome.  His  mercy  and  His  might, 
By  which  He  lends  ns  of  Himselfe  a  sight !  " 

There  is  of  course  another  side  to  this  art  educa- 
tion— tlie  more  active  side,  for  art  is  essentially  ac- 
tive and  its  virtne  is  eminently  in  the  sphere  of  the 
will.  This  activity  needs  training  alike  in  origin- 
ating enthusiasm  and  executive  power.  Here  is  the 
sad  truth  with  the  ])revailing  methods  of  education, 
that  they  do  not  stir  the  will  to  enter])rise  or  to 
achievement,  but  content  themselves  too  nuich  with 
im])i'essi()ns  and  words.  Here  too  the  common  ar- 
tistic culture  has  been  too  feeble,  and  passive  taste 
has  taken  the  place  of  earnest  as])iration  and  acti\'e 
force.  ^Vhy  not  l)egin  ^vitli  setting  this  matter 
right?  AVhy  not  put  the  spirit  of  originality  into 
our  children  l)y  making  them  hunt  out  ol)ject  les- 
sons for  themselves  in  the  gardens  and  woods  and  l.)y 
the  ^vater  i  Little  Billy  can  be  trained  to  delight 
more  in  l)ringing  flowers,  mosses,  leaves,  berries  and 
shells  from  his  rambles  than  in  roljbing  l)irds'  nests, 
and  he  and  his  companions,  girls  as  well  as  boys,  can 
gro^v  up  with  a  Avell-spring  of  original  life  within 
them,  that  will  tell  not  only  u])on  their  o^vn  lot,  but 
upon  the  tastes  of  society,  and  in  time  interpret  it- 
self in  gardens,   halls,   ])ictui'es,   statues,   music  and 


26  THOMAS    CRAWFORD 

all  gentle  ai-ts,  wlietlier  })y  the  patronage  that  en- 
courages genius  to  do  its  work,  or  ]>y  the  gifts  of 
genius  itself  in  tlieir  j)ers<)ns.  We  want  tliis  fresh, 
life-seeking,  life-giving  s])irit  everywhere  to  stir  and 
elevate  our  dull  routine  and  our  feeble  and  exactinix 
])lea sure-seeking  generation. 

AVith  this  original  freshness  executive  force  should 
go,  and  it  is  the  essential  characteristic  of  art  that 
it  conijwls  its  disci])le  to  work  and  never  to  be  con- 
tent with  any  dream  of  beauty  aj)art  fi'om  doing  it 
into  artistic  form.  Here  our  sculi)tor  is  a  noble  ex- 
am])le — a  good  mechanic  as  well  as  an  imaginative 
designer,  lie  had  learned  to  carve  wood  and  mar- 
l)le  before  he  moulded  clay  or  ])encilled  sketches, 
and  his  mechanical  skill  had  nuich  to  do  with  his 
artistic  exc<'llence.  AVe  all  need  to  remember  this 
fact  and  to  Ix'wai'c  of  the  dreamy,  bookish,  imbecile 
culture  tliat  stops  with  tine  notions  and  never  car- 
ries the  idea  foith  to  tlie  deed.  AVe  cannot  do 
witliout  mechanical  skill,  and  our  artists  sometimes 
fall  short  of  the  true  mai-k  by  being  content  with 
th<'  lit<*rary  jtart  <>f  tlieir  art;  calling  themselves 
architects  an<l  sculptors  because  they  can  dream  of 
buildings  and  statues  w  itli  bttlc  ]»ower  to  ]>ut  them 
into  wood  and  stojjc.  My  impression  is,  that  the 
best  recent  exjtei'ieiicc  of  ai"t  e<lucation  leads  us  t<»  re- 
spect inoic  and  more  tlu*  exam]»h'  of  such  men  as  .VI- 
bcit  Diii-er  and  Michael  Ang<'lo,  who  Nvei-»'  mechan- 
ics as  well  as  artists,  and  to  uige  the  nee<l  of  train- 
ing our  voung  artists  in  the  sti'ong  anil  ti-ue  hand 
as  well  as  in  the  <piick  brain  and  the  b-i-tile  fancy. 
AN'liy  not  cari'y  this  j)riiirij)]c  into  all  education,  an<l 


AND    AliT   IN    AMEUICA.  27 

put  muscle  as  well  as  luind  into  all  our  schooling? 
Why  not  put  away  a  gn^at  })art  of  th(!  verbiage  and 
crMniniing  from  our  schools,  and  t(^ach  even  little 
children  tlie  al})hal)et  of  uature  and  the  handwi-iting 
of  art  ?  Wliy  not  teacli  them  to  seek  out  and  to  see 
all  the  attributes  of  tlungs  for  thems(dves,  and  to 
write  them  out  Avitli  their  own  hand  in  characters 
of  form,  coloi',  and  mass  ?  We  ought  all  to  learn  to 
draw  or  ])aint  or  model,  and  if  possible  coml)ine  all 
these  arts  of  expression,  not  to  make  us  all  artists, 
but  to  give  us  mastery  over  our  own  faculties  and 
the  nature  of  things.  The  leaders  of  education  are 
seeing  tliis  need  and  meeting  it.  The  deluge  of  ])rint 
is  al)atino\  and  as  its  waters  su])side  we  are  seeino; 
the  green  earth,  the  meadows,  the  trees,  the  birds, 
the  cattle,  and  the  farms  and  habitations  of  men,  and 
asking  ])ower  to  render  them  in  all  their  reality,  in- 
stead of  being  content  Avith  pale  shadoNvs  of  them 
on  the  printed  i)age.  We  need  to  reform  education 
in  l)otli  directions — to  make  muscle  more  artistic 
and  to  make  art  more  muscular.  Our  modern  divi- 
sion of  laljor  is  the  result  of  the  sectarian  s])irit 
that  divides-meu  1)}'  the  very  diiferences  that  ought 
to  Ijring  them  together,,  and  the  se})aration  of  prac- 
tical gifts,  that  need  each  other,  is  worse  tlian  the 
war  of  speculative  opinions  that  have  ])erhaps  out- 
lived their  day.  The  workman  needs  to  l)e  again 
brother  to  the  artist  and  to  love  the  plan  of  the 
building  on  Avliich  he  works.  The  artist  nee<ls  to  l)e 
again  a  worknnm  and  to  carry  ideal  enthusiasm  into 
the  hammer  as  well  as  tlie  ])encil,  and  to  ])ut  hand 
and  heart  into  architecture  and  eno-ineerini^-.     It  is  a 


28  TIIOilAS    CRAAVFORD 

j)ity  tliat  Italy  did  not  aj^preciate  Leonardo  da  Vinci 
and  Mirluud  Ani^ido  as  nu'clianies  and  engint'ers  as 
well  as  painters  and  scnl])tors,  and  use  tlieir  genius 
to  ln'ing  health  to  the  malarious  marshes  and  work 
and  eonij)etence  to  the  impoverished  ])eople.  This 
union  of  genius  with  industry  nnist  eonie,  and  the 
true  artist  nuist  not  only  charm  our  leisure  by  his 
fancy,  l>ut  he  nuist  invigorate  and  ennoble  the  life 
of  nations  }>y  his  skill  and  invention  antl  enter- 
])risc. 

Carry  out  these  ideas  of  art  education,  and  our 
whole  standard  of  culture  rises,  our  boys  and  girls 
will  have  better  senses  and  judgment,  as])irations 
and  jtouei's  for  their  various  spheres,  Avhilst  they 
who  have  es])ecial  ability  as  artists  will  be  pi-e])ai-e(l 
f<»r  th<'ir  vocation  in  the  especial  schools  of  art.  All 
honor  to  tliesc  esp<'cial  schools — to  the  CoojU'r  In- 
stitute, to  the  Aca(h'iiiy  of  Design,  to  the  j)ublic 
schools  of  ai't  Avhich  are  now  rising  throughout 
Ciiristendoni  and  in  Aviiicli,  so  far  as  America  is  con- 
cei-ned,  I  believe  the  State  of  ^Massachusetts  has 
taken  the  leatl,  not  niei'elv  for  the  retiniitg  of  the  taste 
of  hei-  people,  but  for  the  elevation  of  her  industry 
and  till'  increase  of  hei'  wealth. 

.'».  In  all  this  effoit  we  need  a  broad  and  generous 
])nb]ic  spiiit,  and  we  are  a]»i)arcntly  to  have  it  in 
due  time.  Our  ])ubli(!  spiiii  ha^  not  itcen  hard  or 
seltisli,  but  it  has  been  bu<ie<l  luaiulv  \\]\\\  working 
the  soil  and  our  indu^tiy  into  >lia|)c  and  gixing  as 
far  a<  pos'-iMe  the  polish  of  gi-acetotli<'  implements 
of  toil  ;ind  the  >tamj»  ■■>{'  aH  to  tin-  -t ructui'es  of  in- 
du-tr\    and    tliiift.      W'c    need  to  know    better  than 


AXD  ART  IX  a^[p:kica.  29 

we  do,  that  ]al)or  laiiguislies  and  tlirift 'fails  wltliout 
the  true  eiidowiiieiit  of  l)eaiit3'  5  ^^^'^^  '^^^  cai)ital  is 
not  to  be  counted  iu  money,  and  tlie  ])eei-h's.s  be- 
quests of  former  genei'ations,  tlie  masterpieces  of 
ages,  are  seen  witliout  money  and  enjoyed  }\  itliout 
1)eing  exliausted.  AVliat  a  ])lessing  in  the  assurance 
tliat  so  mucli  lias  l)een  done  l)y  gifted  men  that  is 
tlie  lasting  projierty  of  tlie  human  i-ace,  and  that 
the  treasures  of  art,  like  the  perfections  of  God,  are 
not  wasted  by  l)eing  used,  and  the  more  they  are 
known  and  appreciated,  the  more  they  abound. 
IIai)py  therefoi-e  are  they  ^\  ho  give  such  gifts  to  the 
])eo])le  as  our  President  has  given  to-night.  The  be- 
quest shall  live  when  he  is  gone  and  our  children's 
children  have  ])assed  away. 

The  want  of  the  art  s})ii'it  and  its  products  here 
puts  us  at  disadvantage  in  comparison  Nvith  Europe, 
and  our  people  go  abroad  in  ])art  to  escape  the  ^vorry 
and  anxiety  of  this  new  and  crude  country,  ^vhere 
nothing  is  hnished,  to  find  relief  in  the  old  world 
where  centuries  gather  their  treasures,  and  life  has 
something  of  the  finish  that  makes  it  the  Sunday  of 
grace  and  not  the  perpetual  Avashing-day  of  scrub- 
bing and  discontent.  The  art  s])irit  is  to  helj:)  us 
out  of  this  difiiculty,  and  instead  of  rol)bing  us  of 
our  young  energy,  it  is  to  open  to  it  new  visions  of 
triunqih  and  to  give  our  restless  dash  the  calmness 
which  is  the  crown  of  true  power,  and  Avithout  ^vllich 
its  force  is  a  fever  that  ends  in  iml)ecility  and  death. 
Let  us  have,  then,  our  true  art  cidture,  and  have  it  in 
our  own  way  in  the  interests  of  our  liberty  and  or- 
der, in  loyalty  to  the  justice  and  humanit}"  that  we 


30  THOMAS    CRAWFORD 

ackiKnvledcre  and  in  service  of  the  relisjion  that  we 
revere. 

There  is  no  want  of  saV)jects  for  onr  artists,  nor 
of  genius  foi-  the  arts.  PW  more  than  a  hundred 
years  we  liad  gifted  men  of  our  own  stock  wlio  have 
shown  conspicuous  gifts,  and  surely  nature  is  fair 
enough  for  our  landscaj)e  painters,  and  our  people 
and  our  history  are  not  wanting  in  traits  for  the  his- 
torical ]>ainter  and  the  sculi)tor.  Some  of  our  l)est 
artists  liave  heen  trained  at  home,  ami  tliey  have 
found  scenes  and  fii^ures  enou<j:h  for  them  here.  Our 
men  certainly  are  not  had  looking,  and  our  women 
are,  to  s})eak  with  moderation,  as  fair  as  any  in  the 
woi'ld — the  fairest  of  any,  we  may  ])ei'ha})S  safely 
say.  If  our  ai't  took  its  lead  from  Italy,  it  lias  in  some 
respects  rivalled  its  masters,  and  })rol)al)ly  we  have 
American  sculj)tors  an<l  j)ainters — sculptors  surely, 
who  sui-j)ass  any  contemj)oi-aiy  Italians.  They  told 
me  in  Rome  that  there  was  hut  one  Tenerani,  and  I 
looke(l  into  his  atelier,  alas  I  on  the  day  after  his 
death,  earnest  even  at  that  time  to  j)ay  my  tri])Ute 
to  this  gifte<l  ]ni])i]  of  'J'horwaldsen.  But  he  evi- 
d<'ntly  had  l»een  <)ver])owered  l)y  tlu^  anti(jue  that  he 
had  so  devottMlly  studied,  and  he  had  not,  like  C'raw- 
foi-d,  used  its  sevei'e  and  massiNc  form  so  as  to  helj) 
him  to  shape  a  higher  ideal  of  humanity.  It  is  well 
if  our  /Vmcrica  can  pay  her  delit  to  Italy  in  any 
Avay,  ami  like  the  Roman  daughter  give  1»a('k  the  tide 
of  lift'  to  her  parent.  It  is  \v<'ll  that  .Michael  An- 
L,0'|o  jiiids  hei'c  an  interpreter  that  Rome  has  not  al- 
lowed him  to  find  at  home,  and  whilst  Rome  sends 
to  .Vnieriea   the    Cardinal's  hat,  Aniei'iea  has    aiitici- 


AND    ART   IN    AMEIIICA.  31 

pated  tlie  compliment  by  sending  to  lier  tlie  liberty- 
cap  wliicli  Crawford  there  designed  before  lie  cliin- 
elled  it  on  the  head  of  his  colossal  statue.  Tliat 
liberty-cap  is  something  more  than  a  compliment, 
and  with  tlu;  cocked  hat  of  the  Continental  arm\'<>f 
our  American  llevolution  it  has  told  aiid  is  telling 
upon  the  ])ublic  opinion  of  Eui-ope  and  of  liome 
more  ])owerfully  than  any  of  the  honoi's  or  the  ful- 
minations  of  the  Vatican.  Perhajjs  Italy  is  in  this 
respect  changing  places  with  America,  and  Avhilst 
we  are  accepting  her  art,  she  is  acce])ting  our  in- 
dustry and  thought,  and  doing  last  for  her  ])eople 
the  work  of  health  and  thrift,  which  we  did  tirst — 
making  the  rule  of  utility  come  after  her  emj)ire  of 
beauty. 

All  honor  and  success  to  her  in  each  spliere  I  Italy 
and  America — wIkmu  God  hath  joined  together  let 
not  man  ])ut  asunder  I  This  word  for  Italy  it  is 
Avell  to  sa}'  on  this  four  hundredth  year  since  ^Michael 
Angelo's  l)irth,  and  to  add  these  nolde  words  of 
Christo])her  Pearse  Cranch  : — 

"  Ennobled  by  liis  hand 
Florence  and  Konie  sliall  stand, 

8tani})ed  with  the  signet  ring 
He  wore  where  kings  obeyed 
The  laws  the  artists  made. 

Art  was  his  world  and  he  was  Art's  anointed  king. 

"  So  stood  this  Angelo 
Fonr  linndred  years  ago  ; 

So  gravely  still  he  stands, 
'Mid  lesser  works  of  art. 
Colossal  and  apart, 

Like  Mennion  breathing  songs  across  the  desert  sands.'' 


32  THOMAS   CRAAVFORD 

Now  that  we  are  counting  our  first  century  of 
national  life,  it  is  well  for  us  to  recollect  ourselves 
sonu'wliat  seriously,  and  in  our  letters  and  art  try  to 
perj)etuate  the  hest  lessons  and  examples  of  our 
record.  A\\  art  rests  upon  experien(;e,  and  Memory, 
mother  of  the  Muses,  gives  the  great  subjects  for 
invention  as  for  history.  Crawford  has  done  his 
part  to  em})ody  the  great  remend)rances  of  our  nation, 
and  we  are  asked  to  comluue  all  true  men  and  ]»rin- 
ciples  and  powers  to  give  continuity  to  his  work. 
Mere  individualism  cannot  do  anytliing  great  or 
good,  and  all  nobleness  starts  in  a  memory  l)eyond 
the  individual  man,  aiul  cond)ines  forces  and  con- 
tinues influences  beyond  his  egotism.  It  is  well  for 
us  to  bring  out  the  wealth  of  our  record,  to  set  the 
imngesof  our  fathers  in  the  front  of  honor,  to  reV)uke 
self-seeking  and  knavery  in  liigh  ])laces  by  the  dig- 
nity of  august  examples  as  well  as  by  tlie  majesty 
of  ]>ure  ])rinciples,  and  to  give  the  innnortal  touch 
of  art  to  tlie  names  of  our  ])atriots  and  lawgivei's. 
Probably  tlie  latent  s])ii-it  of  the  ])eo])le  is  in  this 
I'esjx'ct  in  adwiiK-e  of  the  standard  opinion  of  our 
scholastic  m<Mi  and  oui'  men  of  wealth  :  and  as 
in  the  defence  of  the  nation  against  treason,  so  in 
its  (]\u'  elevation  ]»y  the  ])otent  hand  of  art,  our  ]ieo- 
]»]('  Avill  sui'])i'ise  the  plodding  Avorld  by  tlicir  readi- 
ness to  \\('l('ome  eveiy  noble  insj>iration  that  gives 
llie  <-ountiy  her  due  ]>lace  among  the  nations  and 
<»\\iis  hei"  due  lo\alty  to  the  kingdom  of  (lod.  ( )ur 
])eoj)le  ^vill  a)»j)reeiat"  Crawford's  pati'iotic  \vork 
jiioic  ;ind  nioi'e,  and  Kielimond,  no  longer  esti'anged, 
A\ill  in  time  be  a  slii-ine  of  pilgrimage  to  N«»rtliei'n 


AND    AllT    IN    AMEllICA.  '  33 

patriots  wlio  go  tliitlier  to  look  upon  tlie  noblest  of 
American  monuments,  ^vltli  its  statues  of  AVasliing- 
tonand  Patrick  Henry  and  Jefferson  and  Alai-sliall, 
tliat  stand  for  tlie  luiion  and  liberty  that  tliey  won 
for  the  whole  country. 

This  New  York  Historical  Society  lias  done  its 
part  in  this  direction,  and  will  do  it  still. 

You,  j\[r.  President  and  gentlemen,  have  Iniilt 
this  solid  hall  of  remembrance  and  tilled  it  Avitli 
treasures  of  letters  and.  art,  and  oj^ened  it  to  the 
young  generation. 

No^vhere  in  this  land  is  there  a  better  collection 
of  historical  memorials,  and  to-niglit  a  noble  piece 
of  sculpture  is  added  to  the  wealth  of  canvas  and 
marl)le  that  have  lono;  been  £>:atlierinii:. 

AVe  have  the  requisite  conditions  for  a  great 
institution  of  history  and  the  arts.  There  is  none 
so  good,  nor  is  there  likely  to  Ije  any.  Let  the 
ne^v  building  rise  in  its  strength  and  beauty,  with 
ample  room  for  all  the  ai'ts,  for  letters,  sculj)ture, 
painting ;  all  that  presents  the  life  of  men  and 
nations,  and  speaks  to  our  children  its  august 
memories  and  its  inspiring  hopes.  Here  let  our 
citizens  present  their  august  fellowship  with  the 
nations  and  the  race,  counting  nothing  human 
foi-eign  to  our  blood.  Here  let  our  rich  treasures 
unite  their  wealth  and  their  ^vitness.  Here  let  the 
marbles  of  Nineveh  and  the  antiquities  of  Egypt  join 
^vith  the  art  of  Italy,  Flanders,  Holland,  Spain, 
France,  Germany,  and  our  o^vn  land  to  enrich  our 
American  l)irtln"iglit,  and  to  tell  coming  generations 
that  we  look  to  a  worthy  future,  because  we  grow 
3 


34  TIIOJIAS     CRAWFORD 

from  a  substantial  rcx)t  in  the  past  and  feed  upon 
its  unfailing  sj^ring  of  strengtli  and  beauty  and  joy. 
Here  write  in  letters  and  books,  on  canvas,  in  brass 
and  in  marble,  tlie  Word  of  History,  and  God  and 
Humanity  will  breathe  the  Spirit  of  Life. 


AND    ART    IX    AMKIMCA.  35 


THHJUTE    TO    CRAWF(JRD,  I)ECE:\rJ5EP.   11,  ISru. 

The  uddress  is  made  more  complete  ])y  recalling;  the 
commemorative  discoui'se  of  ProfesstM-  Cieorge  AV.  (iiveiie, 
DecemlxT  14,  1857,  and  the  remarks  from  Dr.  Osi^ood  that 
followed,  which  we  here  insert  from  the  Kct-iuiKj  Pu>it  (jf 
that  week, 

"  The  anui\'er,sary  discourse  of  the  New  York  Historicul  Society 
was  given  on  Tuesday,  Dec(;uiber  14,  by  Prof.  George  W,  (Jn.'ene, 
of  tliis  city,  aiul  treated  of  tlie  life  and  genius  of  Thomas  C'r;i\v- 
ford,  the  gifted  scidptor,  whose  sad  death  has  taken  from  ns 
perliaps  the  first  of  American  artists.  The  discourse  will  he 
2)ublis]ied.  We  add  a  few  words  of  Rev.  Dr.  Osgood,  who  was 
asked  to  introduce  the  resolution  of  thanks. 

''Dr.  Osgood,  after  reading  the  resolution,  said:  "I  am  most 
hap])y,  ]Mr.  President,  to  expicss  the  tlianks  of  the  Society  for 
the  beautiful  and  eloquent  address  to  which  we  have  just  listened, 
and  camiot  but  think  the  subject  most  ap])ro[)riate  for  the  second 
anniversary  in  our  new  and  expressive  edifice.  This  building  is 
dedicated  to  history,  in  the  highest  sense  of  the  term,  and  in- 
cludes art  as  well  as  lettej-s,  in  its  records  of  the  deeds  and 
thoughts  of  men.  Our  galleries  of  painting  and  sculpture,  as 
well  as  Qwx  library  and  archives,  preserve  the  mark  of  man  upon 
the  ages,  and  history,  as  we  I'ead  it,  is  written  with  the  scidptor's 
chisel  and  the  painter's  pencil  (piite  as  eni])liatically  as  by  the 
author's  pen  and  the  printer's  type.  It  is  just,  therefore,  to  give 
this  anniversary  evening  to  the  memory  of  our  gi'eat — probably 
our  greatest — American  sculptor,  and  our  satisfaction  in  what  we 
have  heard  to-night  is  as  warrantable  as  it  is  unanimous. 

"  I  do  not  pi-ofess  to  be  an  adept  in  the  beautiful  arts,  whether 
of  the   connoisseu.r  or  the  amateur   kind,  and   am  the  more  en- 


36  THOMAS    CRAWFORD 

coui-Jigod  to  throw  out  a  few  thoughts  suggested  by  the  athh'ess, 
from  the  very  fact  that  I  8j>eak  soinewliat  as  an  outsider,  and  my 
words  may  have  something  of  the  same  interest  as  the  notes  of  a 
strange  traveller — some  Hindoo  or  Chine^se — upon  our  land  and 
j)eoj»le.  The  first  thought  that  comes  to  me  is  the  cheering  con- 
viction that  kind  Providence,  in  the  ample  bestowal  of  material 
goods  and  enterprise,  does  not  evidently  mean  to  stint  us  in  re- 
spect to  the  rarer  gifts  of  intellect  and  beauty,  but  is  kindling  on 
every  side,  in  the  spirits  of  chosen  men  of  our  peojde,  the  sanui 
divine  fire  that  has  glowed  in  the  genius  of  a  Phidias  and  Aj)elk's, 
a  Paphael  and  Michael  Angelo.  Education  can  do  much,  but  it 
can  never  bring  out  of  a  man  what  God  never  ]>ut  into  him,  and 
genius  is  born  whilst  knowledge  is  ac(juired.  Education  trained 
Crawford's  hand  to  its  skill,  but  God  gave  him  his  genius,  anil 
this  obscure  New  York  boy,  whose  labors  we  now  honor,  was 
taiight  of  heaven  before  he  was  taught  of  men,  that  he  belongc*! 
to  the  elect  priestliood  of  the  beautiful  arts.  His  example,  with 
that  of  not  a  few  others,  is  therefore  most  cheering,  and  en- 
courages us  in  the  faith  that  whilst  we  are  for  a  time  ol)liged  to 
rough  it  in  this  new  country,  and  work  hard  for  that  prime  essen- 
tial, our  bread  and  butter,  in  due  s<'as(>n  we  shall  carve  arabes(pies 
upon  the  bread-plate,  and  embroider  flowers  into  our  table-cloth, 
and  exalt  <n\v  plodding  utility  by  all  the  retinements  of  taste  ami 
creations  of  beauty.  On  every  side  artistic  genius  is  developing 
itself,  and  prou<l  as  we  are  of  our  jiloughs  and  reapers,  otir  presses 
an<l  engines,  we  have  no  reason  to  he  ashamed  either  of  our  artists 
or  their  patrons,  nor  to  doitbt  that  this  land  of  corn  and  cotton 
can  bear  its  full  proportion  of  heibs  of  grace  and  flowers  of 
loveliness. 

"This  satisfaction  in  the  jironiise  of  American  art  does  not 
move  us  to  the  ial>id  kind  of  patii(»tism  that  scotTs  at  everything 
foreign,  and,  in  its  atteni|it  to  magnify,  actually  belittles  us,  by 
cutting  us  off  from  the  Old  World  and  uiaking  us  a  fragnient 
of  liuiiiaiiity  instead  of  a  hemisphere  of  the  full  globe.  Crawford 
]>riipcrlv  went  to  Komi;  to  schoul  his  genius  under  the  discipline 
of  the  l>est  masteis  and  to  study  the  great  works  that  treasure  up 
the  liciics  of  all  ages  in  tlmx'  pri<cless  repositori<'S.  It  is  w  11  for 
us  Aiiieiieans  thus  to  believi-  that  we  belong  not  tooiu'selves  alone, 


AND    ART    IX    AMEllICA.  37 

l)iit  to  hniniinity  ;  and  tliut  as  we  receive  iinich  from  tlie  Old 
World,  so  we  owe  mucli,  and  are  called  to  pay  back  our  debt  for 
so  niucli  wisdom  and  beauty  by  n(!\v  enterpt  iscs  of  iiianliiiess  and 
inspirations  of  hope.  The  fear  is,  however,  that  our  youth  who 
ti'avel  in  Europe  and  revel  in  the  arts  of  Italy,  will  nifine  their 
taste  at  the  expense  of  their  originality,  if  not  softeft  their  man- 
ners at  the  cost  of  their  manhooil.  Most  of  tliem  s(!em  to  weaken 
their  force  as  they  widen  tlieir  range,  and  to  come  back  enchanted 
rather  than  ins[)ired.  But  enchantment  is  not  inspii'ution. 
Caly})So's  grotto  is  not  Apollo's  temjde,  nor  is  Circe's  cup  Casta- 
lia's  fountain.  Crawford  did  not  confound  the  two  ex])erii'nces 
nor  lose  his  originality  among  the  master-pieces  of  ancient  art  and 
the  distortions  of  modern  critics.  Perha})s,  without  being  con- 
scious of  it,  he  embodied  his  own  brave  thought  upon  the  genius 
of  Italy,  that  mausoleum  of  humanity,  whose  inspiration  is  a 
remembrance  rather  than  a  hope,  in  his  marvellous  statue  of 
Oi'})heus,  who  is  repi-esented  as  calling  up,  by  the  charm  of  his 
nnisic,  the  spirits  of  the  dead,  instead  of  leading  on  the  march 
of  living  humanity  by  his  cheering  strain.  Italy,  too,  is  looking, 
like  Orpheus,  into  the  under  world,  and,  like  him,  vainly  trying 
to  recall  its  cherished  past,  that  lost  Enrydice.  Italy,  who  gave 
Crawford  the  finishing  touch  of  her  skill,  did  not  overlay  his 
originality  by  her  traditions.  *  He  turned  from  the  land  of  Mem- 
ory to  the  new  world  of  Hope,  and  his  Washington  embodied  his 
faith,  whilst  it  crowned  his  genius. 

"  The  stattie  at  Richmond  is  Crawford's  histoiy  of  the  Father  of 
our  Countiy,  and  it  will  be  read  for  ages  by  eager  eyes,  under  the 
light  of  God's  own  heaven,  when  most  of  tlie  rhetoric  that  is  now 
called  immortal  is  forgotten,  and  the  ])eople  who  call  him  blessed 
shall  fill  the  continent  with  their  civilization  and  oii-dle  the  "lobe 
with  their  industry. 

"  There  is  something  very  friendly  and  sympathetic  in  tlie  look 
of  this  great  assembly  here  met  in  honor  of  a  fellow-citizen  whose 
brilliant  life  was  full  of  trials,  and  whose  early  death  was  a 
tragedy  of  anguish  and  disappointment.  He  was  more  sadly 
atllicted  than  Milton,  whose  eyes, 

"  So  tliick  a  drop  severe  hath  quench' d  their  orbs, 
Or  dim  suffusion  veiled." 


38  THOMAS     CRAWFOKI) 

"  The  i>oet\s  work  may  i)ros])er  •without  siglit,  and  he  nmy  sing 

"  As  the  wakeful  bird 
Sinps  darkling,  and,  in  .shadiest  covert  hid, 
Tunes  her  nocturnal  note." 

"  But  how  .shall  the  sculptoi*  guide  his  hand  without  that 
friiiidly  light?  The  sense  of  vision — that  gatt^  called  Beautiful 
to  this  living  temple,  the  body — was  to  Crawford  most  painfully 
darkened  and  closed.  Yet  to  liim  the  world  of  loveliness  was  not 
.sealed  up,  for,  \nider  God's  discipline,  sight  becomes  insight,  and 
the  shapes  of  beauty  that  for  years  had  l)een  passing  through  that 
temple-g;ite  weie  now  kneeling  before  the  interior  shrine.  The 
Ideal  that  was  the  dream  of  his  boyliood  and  the  life  of  his 
maturity  did  not  de.sert  him  in  hi.«  dark  sorrow,  but  was  trans- 
figured into  faith  in  the  triith  and  beauty  that  are  heavenly  and 
etciiial.  There  is  something  in  the  genial  and  grateful  spirit  of 
this  assembly  that  throws  brightness  over  our  artist's  great  sor- 
row and  premature  death,  and  brings  him  to  us  in  his  health  and 
joy.  May  we  not  devoutly  trust  that  he  who  loyally  gave  him.self 
to  till-  chosen  ministry  of  Beauty  does  not  renounce  the  mind  in 
putting  off  the  body,  nor  abjure  his  ruling  love  in  (putting  its 
earthlv  spliere  ?  We  leave  his  soul  with  that  fnliniteand  Eternal 
Spirit  whom  we  are  called  to  know  and  a<lore,  not  only  as  the 
Almiglity  and  All-Wise,  but  also  as  the  All-Merciful  and    AU- 

]^OVflv." 


AND    AllT    IX    AJIEUICA.  39 


PEOCEEDTNGS   OF  THE   SOCIETY. 

At  a  stat(Ml  meeting  of  tlie   Nkw   York    iriSTOuicAL    Socikty, 
held  ill  its  Hall,  on  Tuesday  evening,  April  Gtli,  IS?-"), 

"The  Librarian,  Mr.  MoouE,  read  a  letter  from  the  rresident, 
as  follows : 

"  lAhrary  of  the  2^ew  ^"ork  Historical  Socii't)j^ 

April  ("),  1875. 
"Georok  it.  ]\roouE,  LL.D.,  Librarian,  &c. 

"3Iy  dear  Sir — Having  })iirchasod  from  Mrs.  Lonisa  W. 
Terry,  executrix  of  the  last  will  and  testament  of  the  late  Thomas 
( 'rawfoi'd,  his  marble  statue  of  '  21ie  ladiany  I  Jiow  ofler  it  as 
a  gift  to  the  New  York  Historical  Society. 

"  The  2)apers  relatiiig  to  its  proper  legal  ti'ansfer  are  communi- 
cated herewith,  as  the  nniniments  of  title  for  the  Societv. 

"I  trust  that  this  noble  work,  regarded  as  the  masterpiece  of 
its  distinguished  author,  may  i-emain  in  per[)etuity  among  our 
collections,  to  conniiemorate  the  Indian  of  North  America. 

"Fkedericde  Peyster, 

'' President,  Arc." 

The  paper  of  the  evening  was  then  read  by  the  Kev.  Dr. 
Samuel  Osgood,  on  '■^I'ltomos  Crawford  and  ^Irt  in  Aineri(;a.'''' 

^\v.  William  J.  Hoppix  submitted  the  folloAving  resolutions, 
wliich  were  seconded  by  Mr.  Joiix  Austin  Stevens,  and  adopted 
unanimously : 

JlesoJved,  That  the  thanks  of  the  Society  are  cordially  extended 
to  our  Pieside]it,  Frederic  de  Peyster,  for  his  muniticent  gift 
of  the  colossal  statue  of  "  2' lie  Indian^''  by  the  eminent  sculptor 
Thomas  Crawford. 


40        TIIO.MAS    CUAWFORD    AND    ART   IN    AMERICA. 

lirsoh'fil,  That  in  our  acknowledgment  of  this  princely  aiUli- 
tion  to  our  treasures,  we  recall  the  many  previous  similar  bene- 
factions, as  well  in  works  of  literature  as  of  art,  "with  whicli  Mi*. 
i)K  Pevstkk  has  enriched  the  collections  of  the  Society. 

Jiesotni/^   That  we   recognize   with   pleasure   in   this   grateful 
record  the  names  of  two  so  highly  honored  sons  of  New  York — 
the     Artist   and    the    Citizen — now    forever  united  hy    grateful 
association  in  the  thoughts  and  atrections  of  our  members. 
*  «  iK  *  *  «  ♦ 

!Mr.  Ekastis  ('.  linxKnicT  submitted  the  following  resolution, 
which  was  seconded  by  Mr.  Jamks  II.  TiTLs,  and  adopted  unani- 
mously :  • 

liesolved,  That  the  thanks  of  the  Society  be  presented  to  the 
Rev.  Samikl  Osfiooi),  for  his  able  and  eloquent  paj»er  read  this 
evening,  and  that  a  copy  be  requested  for  publication." 

Extract  from  the  ^linutes. 

Andkkw  Warn  El?, 
Jieco  rJiiuj  Seer  eta  ry. 


